


I would follow him right down the roughest road I know

by semicolonsandsimiles



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1970s, Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Flirting, Fluff, Gay Rodeo AU, Horses, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:47:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24427507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semicolonsandsimiles/pseuds/semicolonsandsimiles
Summary: The Pynch gay rodeo AU you never knew you wanted.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34
Collections: TRC/ CDTH Prompt Week 2020





	I would follow him right down the roughest road I know

**Author's Note:**

> For day 3 of TRC/Dreamer Trilogy prompt week - historical AU.
> 
> I heard a male singer's cover of the song ( _Someday Soon_ ) from whence comes the title of this, and my brain went "hey guess what. Gay rodeo fic."
> 
> The idea grew on me, literally, so there will be at least one more chapter of this someday soon-ish.

Adam found the rodeo coordinator almost hidden behind the banner that proclaimed _National Reno Gay Rodeo 1978._

“What can I do for you, son?” he asked.

“I’m here to sign up for the calf roping, sir,” Adam told him.

“Breakaway ropin’ or team ropin’?”

“You’re not doing tie-down?”

“Cain’t. The man providin’ the stock says he won’t have people throwin’ his calves like that.”

“I see,” Adam said. It seemed a strange position for a rancher to take, but that was none of his business. “I’ll enter breakaway roping then.”

“Sure thing,” the man said cheerfully. “If you are interested in the team ropin’, there was a young lady by earlier hoping to find a partner.”

“I’m not a team roper, but my friend is.” Henry almost always picked up a teammate at the last minute, which was one of the reasons Adam wasn’t a team roper. That would have stressed him out; Henry seemed to thrive on it. “I’ll let him know.”

Henry was, unsurprisingly, leaning against Adam’s trailer. He was having a one-sided conversation with Henrietta. As Adam approached, Henry glanced over, held his palm out to Henrietta, and let her mouth something out of it.

“Henry,” Adam scolded in jest. “Corrupting my horse with treats again?”

“Your lovely lady was just telling me it’s been an entire _day_ since she last had a treat. Someone had to attend to her.” Henrietta bumped her nose against Henry’s arm

“You’re teaching her bad manners. Registration says they have a team roper looking for a partner.”

“Header or heeler?”

Adam shrugged.

“I shall go get the skinny then.” Henry tipped his hat to Henrietta and sauntered off.

Henry returned not very much later, accompanied by a small, spiky woman. That was, her hair was very spiky and her shirt was very fringey. 

“Good intel, Adam,” Henry called as they got close. “This is Blue.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Adam shook her hand.

“Thank you for not pronouncing that ma’am I heard trying to escape your mouth,” Blue said, wrinkling her nose.

The corners of Adam’s mouth turned up. “I aim to please.”

“Adam,” Henry interjected, “You didn’t tell me you were competing in breakaway roping now.”

“Well, yeah? You’re still not going to talk me into team roping, Henry.”

Henry looked confused.

“No tie-down roping,” Blue explained; Henry must have missed that part. “Stockman’s rules. Don’t let the way Ronan treats his cows give you any expectations about his human interactions, though.”

* * *

Adam double-checked the string that attached his rope to his saddle horn. Henrietta danced a tight circle in the box; she was picking up on Adam’s nerves. They were ready now, though. Adam nodded to the person manning the calf chute. 

Run-throw-stop: it was over in a flash. Just before he turned Henrietta to leave the arena, Adam noticed a pair of ice-blue eyes fixed on him. He had just enough time to see that the owner of the eyes was in the cattle pen at the other end of the arena before he left.

Adam found those eyes again promptly, through no effort on his part. They were looking at him again when he went to retrieve his rope. The man they were attached to was equally striking. He was a study in contrasts: pale eyes, pale skin, dark curly hair he wore long in a ponytail beneath a black hat, black Wranglers and black t-shirt.

The man held Adam’s rope out and gave him an appraising look. “You sticking around here for the whole weekend?” He asked.

“Looks that way,” Adam replied, trying not to read anything into the question.

The man opened his mouth to reply, but then turned to shout instructions at another man further down the pens. “Uhh--” the man started.

“I don’t wanna keep you from your work,” Adam said. Then he decided he _was_ going to read into that question, actually. “My trailer’s near the northwest corner.”

The man nodded. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

Late that afternoon, Adam kept half an eye on Henrietta eating her dinner. He had the other eye and a half on his history textbook, so he was a bit startled when a deep, vaguely familiar voice spoke.

“Is that what you call pleasure reading?”

“No,” Adam said, after he’d looked up and placed the voice as the man from earlier. “I call this reading for my correspondence course.”

“Oh god. You’re a nerd, too?”

Adam sighed. “Sure, if--” He replayed the sentence. “Too?” 

The man’s cheeks colored. “Yeah, as in, oh god, he’s hot and a nerd too.”

“You know,” Adam said slowly, “most people use nerd as an insult.”

“Maybe I insult people I like,” the man muttered. He was looking at the ground now, scuffing one of his boots in the dirt.

Pieces began to slot together. “Oh,” Adam said. “Are you Ronan?”

Ronan looked up and grinned at him. “Am I that notorious?”

“In general? I wouldn’t know. Just, Blue mentioned you earlier. She’s roping with my friend.”

“Oh, well if it was Blue, I’m sure everything she said was appropriately insulting.”

Adam chuckled. “You could say that. I’m Adam, by the way.”

Ronan stepped closer so they could shake hands. “Howdy, Adam.” His fingers slid over Adam’s palm as they let go. “Who’s this?” Henrietta had finished eating and wandered over to join the conversation.

“This is Henrietta.” Hearing her name, Henrietta reached down to bump Adam’s hand with her nose. He scratched her forehead.

“You both camping out in the lot here?” Ronan cast a judgmental eye on the battered camper shell that covered the bed of Adam’s truck.

Adam knew the camper shell could use a coat of paint and probably some dent removal, but it kept the weather out, and his first priority was keeping the truck and trailer running. He shrugged. “We’re used to it.”

“Sure,” Ronan said. He looked down at the ground, deep in thought. “I’m just saying, I know where you could get some pasture and a real bed.”

Usually, Adam pretended not to hear the implication in statements like this. Play it safe. Fly under the radar. What if they didn’t mean it that way? He couldn’t convince himself of that in this situation, though. “Yeah?” he drawled. “You offerin’ yours?”

Ronan turned deep red. He clasped one hand on the back of his neck and looked at the ground. “I--” he stammered, then took a deep breath. “I was offering the spare bed, but--” he turned even redder. “You’re more than welcome in mine.”

Adam found himself absurdly pleased that he had made Ronan blush so easily. “Well,” he said, “I know Henrietta wants to visit your pasture, so I reckon it’s a yes.”


End file.
